


The Crash

by padme789



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:18:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padme789/pseuds/padme789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time Travel!Quinn with a twist. Quinn/Older Rachel. While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'. Will include Rachel's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface/Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> 'On My Way' Time Traveler!Quinn with a twist. This story will focus around Quinn and Rachel's relationship and their deep rooted feelings for one another. Quinn will be interacting with Rachel in four different ways. The present day 'real Rachel' a past 'six-year-old Rachel' and two different versions of a 'twenty-six/twenty-seven year old Rachel' There will be moments told through the eyes of present day Rachel but this story aside from the preface and prologue below is told for the most part through the eyes of Quinn.
> 
> Quinn will suffer more from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), mental, and internal injuries than being temporally paralyzed like on the show.
> 
> READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers.

**Preface**

A man in a crisp white shirt rolled to his forearms, silk smoke grey vest, and tailored perfect black slacks knocked two knuckles atop the white door. Just below the wood, spray painted gold, star. His skin though flawless could not hide the tired sunken eyes, and graying curls of hair atop his un-balding head.

He knocked again.

"I told you I wanted to be left alone," griped a voice from the other side. There was a sniffled that soon followed.

"Someone is on your cell for you sweetheart. It sounds important," answered Leroy Berry.

"I said no phone calls."

Leroy sighed, his daughter's phone still to his ear. "Her door is locked. I can't just barge in." He pulled the phone from his ear as long string of Spanish no doubt derived entirely of vulgar language was spoken to him. He would never understand how her father, a co-worker, would allow the Latina to speak like that so freely. He placed Rachel's phone back against his ear. "Are you finished Miss Lopez? None of that was necessary." He heard the teenager apologize and ask if he would try again. "Of course, just give me a minute."

Another two knuckle knock. "Rachel, this is urgent. It's a Miss Lopez on the phone it concerns your mutual friend Miss Fabray. She has already left you six messages filled your message box, and you twenty missed calls."

The door swung open. Rachel wore a pair of McKinley High red jersey short-shorts and an old, too tight for her father's liking, Les Misérables t-shirt. Her wedding dress lay neatly atop her reading chair, her shoes and other accessories thrown about the room with less care. The small teenager's eyes were blood shot she held out her hand. Leroy handed his daughter her phone.

She promptly slammed the door. He would not take it personal, this time.

**Prologue**

_...Rachel Berry's Bedroom…_

The petite brunette gripped the aged envelope, twelve years, it had been twelve years since she was given this letter, and never opened like her six-year-old self promised the young woman she met only twice. 'This is for you Rachel, but I don't want you to open it. Not until something tragic has befallen your life. Do you understand me?' Rachel had nodded vigorously to the young woman after those instructions.

Rachel sighed. She wiped away the tears. The tears which started the moment she entered her room and plunged face first into her pillow. The tears that shed for the 'loss of a fairytale dream' she was not married to her 'prince charming', and at this point Rachel was sure she never would be. The tears that flooded the cotton fiber cloth after she finished her phone call with Santana. In regards to what had really caused Quinn to not show for the wedding at the court house. The tears which fell for a blonde girl who Rachel had barely begun to know and believed would become her best-friend.

It shocked her how well kept the letter was, granted it was never pulled from the confines of the old envelope. She really did become 'an overzealous, controlling, anal-neat-freak' as Quinn had so calmly put. The first night she had spent over at Berry home. And, it all started because of this silly letter. A letter she was given at six-years-old by a complete and total stranger.

Rachel pulled the paper from its confines. She flipped open the two pages of beautifully scripted writing. She began to read.

' _If you're reading this Rachel, you either let your curiosity get the better of you, and if so, I beg you to please stop reading now. Wait until the time is right._

_Or, a tragic event has taken place, and for that I am sorry. You of all people never deserved to feel the way I'm thinking you feel right now._

_With that said, Rachel, before reading any further there are two things I need for you to do? One, don't blame yourself for any of it. Do you understand me? I mean it do not blame yourself. What happened it wasn't your fault. And, two, Rachel, over the next few weeks I need you to promise me you will watch over Brittany and Santana. Santana is going to well be Santana and right now that is not what my mother needs. What my mother needs is to be a Fabray. So Rachel, I need you to watch over Brittany and Santana and tell the others to not come visit until my mother says it's okay. I also know you Rachel. Please don't worry about my mother after reading this. She's going to be okay. My sister is one of the new residents on call and she is helping me as you read this.'_

The tiny brunette gaped at the letter. She wiped at her eye, only there were no more tears to be flung. The young woman told her six-year-old self what she would read would blow her mind, but Rachel was not prepared for this.

' _I was 18 years old the first time I died. I remember there was white, grey, and red everywhere. There was havoc and I felt alive, but really I was dying. Rachel, sometimes I think we live through things…only to say that it happened. That it wasn't because of someone else what happened was really because of me. Sometimes we live to beat the odds. I'm not crazy…even though they think I am. I live in the same world as everyone else. I just see more of it now, as I'm sure you are.'_

Rachel gripped tight to her index finger with her teeth. She continued to read every word. It was as if Quinn were here sitting across from her speaking every word. Except, Quinn was not, Quinn as Santana told her over the phone a half an hour ago. Was at the hospital undergoing extensive surgery to stop a heavy amount of internal bleeding, and to extract large pieces of metal lodged in her lower back. Pieces of her car that lodged themselves into the blonde teenager's body nicking her kidneys, rupturing her spleen, and bruising the nerves of her spine. The Latina also told the brunette they found Quinn clutching her phone with an unfinished text message.

' _Frannie and others will have revived my body by the time I reach the inside the hospital. I was hit only few streets away, that's some great luck huh? You can check it out if you don't believe me. Just make sure my mom isn't a crazy mess if you do.'_

She held her phone tight. Rachel wanted to call the hospital the minute she hung up the phone with Santana. She was too nervous, so she opted to listen if her father was sent away suddenly for work. No calls came.

' _It will be within the next few weeks that matter the most. There's a complication with my treatment and a doctor at the hospital will take me into his care. It's this care he gives that will be the initial cause for my 'death'. If you or Santana hear anything from your fathers in regards to me or odd behavior of patients tell my mother and sister, and they will get me out._

_I've seen life after my death twice, and I'm telling you this because it's the only way I know for sure, that if I don't come out of this alive, I can help you, Santana, and the others. Rachel in one of these futures, Puck is going to start smoking again, yes that's right Rachel Puckerman smokes. It will be barely a year after I'm gone, when he'll pass out smoking a cigarette and burns to death in his apartment. You'll continue on with school a month or so more before you can't take it. You dropout and move back home to Lima. That's when you start living that sad obligatory life Santana claims will happen to anyone who stays in this 'God forsaken town'. Kurt will have found his way up to New York. He comes down to visit you Brittany, and Santana since all three of you are living together, all the time and he misses the old you so much.'_

Rachel turned the sheet of notebook paper over to an empty back. She set it written words down atop her bedspread and began to read the second page.

' _The second future I've seen on the surface looked and felt wonderful. I was so happy for you the first time we met, again. You were on Broadway, Rachel, you had Tony nominations set, and you were living the life you had always dreamed…Finn included. That's what I mean by 'on the surface it was perfect'. You did end up marrying Finn a few months after my passing. You'll both move to New York, but none of what you planned was going right. All Finn would do during your first two and a half years away together was complain that there was never enough time for him. You were always so busy with school, and he could never find any work for himself. However, once you started to receive roles with all you hard work and determination. He started to take an interest in what you were doing, and offered to manage the small career you created. While you finished school and received your degree. The others although proud of you are shocked at how much you have allowed Finn to take control of your life. Especially Kurt, Puck, and Santana. With this success you have lost your ability to make your own choices. I am begging you Rachel. Please don't ever let that happen._

_Sometimes life can only really begin with the knowledge of death. That it can all end even with you least want it too. The important thing in life is to believe, that it's never too late. I promise you Rachel, no matter how bad things look now. They look better awake than they do asleep. When you die, there is only one thing you want to happen. You want to come back, and I WILL COME BACK to you Rach._

_-Quinn'_

This was insane. None of this could be real, could it? Rachel flipped her phone back and forth in her hand until finally activating the touchpad she began to dial a number. "Hello? Yes, I'm looking for a recent patient of yours. Yes…mm-hmm...Quinn Fabray…is she out of surgery? Not until tomorrow…tell me if you could…is it documented that she legally died at all during this ordeal? Right, as she entered the hospital she was revived by the staff…all right thank you very much."

She looked again at the folded papers. If this was right if what a 'future Quinn' had told her was right. Rachel gagged at the thought of either future. It was up to her now to make sure her future went as she expected it too, as well as to protect Quinn form whatever would take place in the care of this 'doctor'. She would speak with Santana. Rachel would make her see the truth even if she had to annoy the Cheerio to death.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Travel!Quinn with a twist. Quinn/Older Rachel. While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'. Will include Rachel's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I pictured Quinn's accident in my head, after that heart wrenching cliff hanger. This is meant to be jumbled. So I apologize for any confusion, it's not intentional.
> 
> I forgot to mention most of the Quinn and Rachel's physical interaction when it comes to their feelings towards one another takes place between eighteen-year-old Quinn and twenty six/twenty seven-year-old Rachel.
> 
> I changed up the summery some. I had a hard time coming up with it until now. After this chapters will be around the 2.5k+ length range.
> 
> READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers.

**Quinn**

… _Quinn Fabray's Car…_

A bright red Volkswagen Bug rolled across the old pavement road three miles over Ohio state regulated speed limit. Quinn Fabray held tight at ten and two, her attention focused towards the road and dashboard digital clock. She was late.

The blonde rushed into her house, her mother at work, ran up the stairs to her bed room. Quinn carefully removed the Cheerio's uniform maneuvering the wooden hanger within the polyester top and straightened the polyester skirt with the wooden clips. Both now hung from the iron hooks of her closet doors. Quinn stood ideal bare feet atop soft white carpet only in a expensive nude lace bra and underwear set. She took in a breath eyes focused on the bright pepto-pink dress. Rachel asked her back; Rachel wanted her back, and for the blonde that was all that mattered. Quinn pulled the bridesmaid dress from the hanger, lifted the dress over her head and zipped it tight, and grabbed her white cardigan and beige high-heel shoes. She was late enough, the shoes could wait.

The irritating indicator of a new text message sounded, vibrating from the confines of the cup-holder. Really was now the time? Rachel knew she was on her way. Did the brunette really distrust her this much? Quinn gave her review mirror a look, no one was coming from behind, and there were no cars up front. She steadied the wheel with her left hand, the compact car keeping a steady straight pace. The blonde took hold of her phone. 'Where are you?' Eye still on the road she began to type.

Quinn never heard the massive truck's horn.

…

The world slowed for Quinn Fabray. Her body slouched forward trapped between an airbag and her seat. The blonde's body tilted to the left her head dangling inches out the broken car window.

A sudden rush of stumbling feet drug across the asphalt a door shut. "No, no, no, no—no," a male voice ranted. "Miss, miss, can you hear me?" Quinn gave no answer. "Aw-Geeze…aw-geeze," ranted a voice. One foot stumbled over the other tripping across the loose gravel of the road. "I—I need to report an ascendant…aw-geeze…I didn't mean to hit the girl! She didn't stop at the stop sign…" The feet stumbled across the road again. "We're at the corner of Main St. and Mockingbird Ln," the man stated stumbling over his words, the man's voice still a frantic distant echo within Quinn's mind. "No—no my head just hurts, but I can walk just fine…the girl? Oh—god—I didn't check!" The man no older than his mid thirties rushed back to Quinn's car. The teenage blonde listened to the 'distant' steps and frantic voice. "I can't reach her…my truck it's crushed her door in…oh-god—oh-god…," the man's drowned in the sea of police and ambulance sirens.

_I was 18 years old the first time I died. I remember there was white, grey, and red everywhere. There was havoc and I felt alive, but really I was dying._

The ambulance roared through the block on its way back to the hospital. "How are we supposed to play this out," asked the red head who waved their truck the heavy traffic in the direction of Lima General.

"Play it like a coma. She has a pulse, but she isn't responding any form of stimulation," answered the other paramedic with frosted spike tips. "The second she's in building hook her to life support." He continued to watch Quinn's vitals from his seat next to the 'lifeless' girl. "Keep your cool to man."

"Keep my cool? I always keep my cool man, If I didn't I wouldn't be in this job."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The paramedic who sat next to Quinn watched her close. "This time it's different. I overheard the officers. This girl's Frannie's younger sister. This is Quinn Fabray."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

…

The truck pulled into back of Lima General. The paramedic flung himself from the front seat positioning him-self unhooking the rear door. The other who sat next to Quinn watching her vitals rolled the gurney listening to wheels open then hit the floor, he jumped out after Quinn and rushed her inside the hospital along with his partner.

Screams of various emergencies echoed throughout the halls of the building as other doctors and paramedics rushed through the halls of the hospital.

"Who do we have here," asked a doctor as he rushed along the halls with the two paramedics who continued to direct Quinn along the halls towards their destination. They group was soon met by a male resident in robin's egg blue scrubs. The paramedic with frosted spike tips continued to manually provide oxygen to Quinn's heart.

"The accident victim on Main and Mockingbird," spoke one. "We need life-support ready!"

The doctor clearly tired, it was his fifteen-hour for a slated ten-hour shift. He looked over Quinn's body checking her vitals, and it finally clicked. The young teenage-girl lying before him was Quinn Fabray, Victor Lopez's daughter's best-friend.

"Is this the life-support patient," asked a blonde woman her hair pulled back in a tight pony-tail. She was no more than five-nine in height, and she like Doctor Lopez looked very, very tired.

"Francine, you should be on your break. We can handle this just fine," stated Victor Lopez in a half-hearted attempt to avert the young woman's focus. He really was too tired.

"No, I can help! I'm free I have no…," Franie trailed off, she gave the 'lifeless' blonde a better look. "Oh-god…Quinn…"

"Francine, I think it best you take your break," stated as he and the male resident began setting Quinn in place for the life-support.

"No," Franie stated with a firm voice, every bit of her father escalating from the tone. She pushed the other resident to the side and helped Victor Lopez ignoring his disapproving glare.

Tubes set heart meter running, and IV set. Francine. Fabray and Victor Lopez eyed the young girl. Doctor Lopez set his finger against the switch ready to start the life-support. "I'll call your mother. You shouldn't have too."

Franie shook her head she needed to be the one to tell their mother.

Quinn Blinked.

"She blinked!"

Victor sighed. It had been a long day especially for the older Fabray girl. This was her first really twelve-hour shift. She needed to rest her eyes, and not take part in what would need to be done for Quinn. "Francine…you're seeing what you want to see."

Quinn's lids fluttered.

"Look!"

Doctor Lopez ran a hand through his hair. He clicked a button on the side of bed. "Code blue, code blue, we have a live patient hooked into life-support! I need an OR ready now!" He and Frannie began undoing the wires designed to help Quinn cling to life, now all that mattered was having the young teenager make it through emergency surgery alive, and well.

…

Her head was wrapped within layers of white gauze. Her torso, legs, and arms were treated in the same manner. The IV dripped morphine, causing Quinn to be placed in a conscious limbo state. The blonde's mind heard the words that exited both the doctor and her mother's mouths. However, her completion sped along at the pace of a turtle. She woke to her sister first and then her mother a few hours later. None of her friends had showed, but did they even know she was here?

Oh-God Rachel! Rachel, no doubt believed Quinn had chosen to ignore the brunette's need for their friendship once again. She had to get to Rachel, find a way to apologize to Rachel, let the tiny teen know it was not entirely her fault she was unable to show for the wedding.

"Your daughter's a very luck girl," stated a man with graying hair as he read through Quinn's chart trough his black wireframe glasses. "She's suffering from an acute psychological suppression. This will more than likely lead to some level of post-traumatic stress because of this she will need to stay in the hospital's nightly care. The kidney repair will take some time. We had to remove her spleen as you know. However, we were able to salvage her spine, and after a few months of extensive physical therapy she should be able to walk again without trouble."

Judy Fabray nodded her mind and body still in a state of shock over seeing her youngest child in such a physical state of distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the start of this story, please review and let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Travel!Quinn with a twist. Quinn/Older Rachel. While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'. Will include Rachel's POV.

**Rachel**

… _three days later, Lima General…_

Rachel Barbra Berry dug into her manicured thumbnail with the other holding tight to the nail with her index. Her father after much begging and a heavy amount of teasing on his part for waiting three days to visit Quinn Fabray. Handed over his private basement parking pass, Hiram was one of the chef surgeons at the hospital.

"Star, if you had abide by visiting hour protocol and Mrs. Fabray hasn't set any visiting limitations. You could have seen Quinn, on Monday after school. There was no reason to wait, unannounced or not."

She was in no mood to deal with the regular visitor parking of Lima General. After all, she only had a few hours left before the staff would usher her out back onto the street. The elevator chimed the number five blinked and the doors opened.

"This is fucking bull, and you know it!"

Rachel paused pulled from her momentary trance intrigued, but unable to see the confrontation. The voice was very familiar, very brash, very harsh, very Santana.

"Miss Lopez, please calm down. My answer's not going to change. You're not permitted to visit Miss Fabray at this time."

"Like hell I'm not allowed to see her! Visiting hours aren't over yet!" Rachel continued her way turning the corner, in view of Santana. "Great dwarf, good you're here!" Santana motioned for Rachel taking hold of her arm. The shock written across Rachel's face from the interaction was not missed by the receptionist or anyone else observing the ordeal. "We're here to see Quinn. That's right, we're here to see our friend, and you can't stop us!"

"You know her Miss Berry," asked the receptionist perplexed. Why on earth would such a wholesome girl as Rachel Berry associate herself with Santana Lopez? The heavy set woman in pastel tie-dye sighed rubbing her eyes with one hand.

Rachel nodded. "Yes, she is a friend from school." She set her purse atop the linoleum desktop too afraid to remove Santana's hand. "Is there a problem?" She ignored the older woman's worried look.

Santana's daggered glare softened slightly once Rachel and the taller teen made eye contact. "Problem, I'll tell you the problem," she growled. "This bitch won't let me see Quinn." The cheerio pointed with haste at the older woman. "My god-damn best friend, she won't let me see my best-friend."

Her temper lowered once Rachel rested her hand against the one gripped to her arm. She had to try maybe she could calm the girl like Brittany, not as fast of course, but calm the Latina nonetheless. "There must be a problem, my Dad told me I would not have a problem seeing Quinn today as well."

The hefty woman sighed. "My answer won't change Miss Berry—" she is cut short by Santana's confused statement.

"Frany," Santana paused confused hand gripping tighter to the brunette. Rachel gawked at the blonde woman in mint-green scrubs. So this was Francis Fabray? Would Quinn's features to grow identical to this beautiful, yet very tired, woman who stood in front of the two teenagers. "Tells this bi—her that we have every right to see Quinn! She's our friend and visiting hours aren't over yet!"

The blonde with a messy bun picked her arm. She avoided Santana's death glare focusing on Rachel. "You didn't tell them?"

The hefty receptionist pilfered a set of papers placing every seven into separate files. "Miss Lopez was set on calling me every vulgar word in both English and Spanish. We hadn't reached that point in our conversation, and Miss Berry just arrived." Rachel and Santana looked from Frany to the older woman and back to Frany.

Frany nodded. "I'll tell them." The older Fabray sister ushered the bewildered teenage-girls towards a small table and chairs beside it a vending machine. Rachel and Santana took a seat. Frany jingled her pocket popping a few coins into the machine choosing a candy bar. She sat with the Latina and petite brunette.

"Frany…what's going on…," Santana sounded distressed Rachel became worried.

Francis pilled the candy and took a bight. "They aren't letting you see Quinn because she isn't in her room." She took another bight.

"What do you mean, she isn't in her room," Santana's voice began to rise. Frany broke off a piece of candy handing it to Santana. She did the same offering to Rachel.

Rachel waved her hand no thank-you. "Vegan."

Frany nodded popping the piece into her mouth. "She was moved into isolation this morning."

"What!" Both teens held a hand over their mouths to muffle the yell.

The older Fabray sister crumpled the paper. She bit her lip, how to continue. "Now, I'm no fan of what they had to do, but girls you need to understand. The facilities to handle this sort of issue here is very slim. So, we had to send her into isolation."

The three young women sat in silence, the oldest of the three allowing the other two to process this information to its fullest extent. "W—why—why did she have go…," finally asked Rachel.

She bit her lip. The new resident of Lima General held her breath a moment. "Quinn had an episode this morning." She took one of both Rachel and Santana's hands. Frany rubbed her thumbs across the top of each.

"E—pisode…" Santana gazed into the white plastic table top.

"Yeah San…sweetie… she's going to be okay, but It will take some time. The accident caused…," Frany paused. "She's suffering from PTSD…"

"Post-traumatic stress…," whispered Rachel.

Franny bobbed her head. "There was a pretty heavy traffic jam outside the hospital this morning, and this driver of a semi wouldn't shut-up." She took another breath. "The jack-ass just wouldn't stop…I wasn't on the floor when it happened. I was taking mom to her car, talking about Quinn, and I wanted to make sure she got out okay…Quinn needed a quiet place, and the only—best place for her to get that was in isolation." She watched her sister's friends not react, she squeezed their hands. "She'll be back in her room tomorrow, you should visit then." She smiled.

Rachel bit her lip eyes on Quinn's sister, she nodded. Santana continued to stare at the table, she was lost. Watching the Latina Rachel was reminded of the letter, she would make sure Santana was safe, and if she was this way god knows how Brittany would respond. Rachel gave Quinn a silent promise.

**Quinn**

… _earlier the same morning Room 509…_

"Mom…Mom…"

Judy Fabray jolted from her slouched sleeping arrangement. She wore a robin's-egg-blue sweater-set and a pair of camel steam pressed Capri pants. "Quinn! Quinnie…," she looked about the room. Quinn, her baby, lay sleeping propped at thirty degree angle. The blonde looked peaceful, her breathe steady. Mrs. Fabray bit her lip she took hold of her daughter's hand. Quinn gave it an involuntary squeeze.

The first night, two days prior, when her youngest child was moved to her 'temporary residence' the whole night as Quinn slept. Her mother sat tears falling along her cheeks as her daughter gripped tight to her hand. The next night she napped in and out squeezing her daughter's every time she felt tightening in her grip.

"Mom…Mom…" The voice gripped her shoulder. It was Francis. "You should go hope take a shower, get some proper rest." She glared at her oldest. "Please, Quinn is worried, you haven't changed out of these clothes for three days, and I can't run to the house to get you a set like before."

"I wan—want to be here when she wakes up," stated Judy Fabray her voice thick from lack of sleep.

Frany kissed her mother's temple. "She will wake up just like she woke up for you yesterday, and the day before. Please, go home get some rest. If anything changes I will let you know." She ushered her mother from the uncomfortable hospital chair. "I'll walk you out."

The recovering teenager blinked. "Mom…," Quinn rasped.

Mrs. Fabray and Francis grinned both bent forward and each kissed the youngest Fabray Frany on her cheek and her mother on her forehead. "I'm walking mom to her car. She needs to sleep in an actual bed. I don't know about you, but I think she's getting a bit rank." Francis held her nose earning a laugh from her baby sister. Normally Judy would be livid from her daughter's teasing, but to hear that laugh. She would be the butt of her oldest daughter's joke, just this once. "I'll see you in just a sec, I promise."

Quinn gave her family a nod and watched her older sister link her arm with their mother and walk out the room.

…

The blonde smiled. Her head may hurt, her body, very sore, and she may still be furious with herself for causing this accident. It was the moments like the one which just occurred that helped her continue on each day. She hit the call button. "Can someone open my blinds for me, please?"

Minutes later a nurse appeared, she began to pull the blinds by the cords. "Would you look at that, traffic again?" The nurse huffed. "This better not last past noon, I am not sitting in that again for three hours." She turned to Quinn. "How are we feeling today?"

Quinn sighed. "Not sure, just woke up." The nurse nodded knowingly.

The sun shown threw it touched just barely against her blanked side. Today was going to be a good day, she just knew it, and the horns began to sound. The pitches were abrupt barely recognizable. Quinn began to wince.

"Oh sweetie, the sun can wait you're more important." She began to shut the blinds once more.

An abrupt trail of a very loud hocks came from what could only be a semi followed by a series of screeches. Hands over her ears, eyes clenched tight Quinn tried, she tried to drown out the sound. It only echoed from ear to ear, temple to temple the high pitched breaks of the semi not helping the situation. She winced with involuntary pain a whimper escaping her lips. The blonde started to mumbled when a sudden string of loud horns escaped the same semi.

Quinn began to scream.

The nurse darted for her morphine switch pressed the small red button twice, and placed a thumb on the call button. "I need assistance in room 509 immediately! I need assistance!"

…

She watched the crew-cut orderly push her along quickly through a new set of hallways. "What's…going on…where…are you…taking…me…," she asked her voice and movements lucid.

The muscular orderly ignored her plea. "Don't worry sweetheart, Dr. Michael's going to take very good care of you. You'll be right as rain and back in your room in no time." He smiled down at the youngest Fabray, and positioned her bed. "Doc, she's ready when you are." He stepped to the side as an older man graying chestnut hair and thick black glasses appeared from a jointed room.

Quinn moaned. She watched the older man with shaggy hair and beard flick the needle with his index finger. He gripped her IVed hand, placed the needle in opposite opening, and pushed the translucent liquid into Quinn's system. "S—St—Stop…what are you…doing…," she groaned. The blonde gazed up at the doctor glassy stare beginning to haze her vision. He and the orderly began to blend. Her eyes rolled as her lids sunk. She was gone.

…

Snow, snow fell freely from the sky. Quinn felt the frozen wet drops hit her face. It was the end of March, what the hell was it doing snowing in the middle of the night in Lima. For that matter why was it dark? Quinn groaned and looked in the refection of a car window. She wore a dark aqua blue pea-coat, beneath that a then cashmere sweater, a pair of skinny jeans, and her feet wore a very inappropriate pair of shoes. Her left hand clenched a exquisitely crafted wooden cane.

What the hell was going on!

There was a chattering between three women who exited from employee entrance to Breadstix. "I'll see you next week Stacie, and I will see you Monday Marty," spoke a petite brunette. She had a heavy winter coat over her Breadstix uniform. The two other women waved to the brunette saying their thanks. The small woman wondered in the direction of an old truck, and opened the driver's side-door, she stepped in. The woman and Quinn made eye contact, neither knew how to act. This small woman with loose wavy pulled back hair felt familiar to the blonde.

The beat-up GMC Jimmy drove past Quinn, it stopped and skid in reverse stopping beside the blonde. The driver rolled down window. The two women made eye contact. "Do you have some place you need to be? It's Christmas Eve, and you're never going to catch a cab here."

"I don't know." Quinn pushed her right hand deeper into her wool coat. She was freezing.

The brunette glowered at Quinn. "I'm going to ask again, do you have some place you need to be?"

Quinn bit her lip, should she really lie. The wind picked up and blew the snow into her face. Lying would help her into a warm car, defiantly lie. "Yeah, yeah I have some place I need to be."

"Alright, hurry up, get in."

The blonde paused. "I—um…yeah…hurry…" She gripped tight to the cane and limped her way to the passenger side. "Thanks for this…"

"No problem." The woman turned over her car once more, and maneuvered her car into drive. "So, what's your name?"

"My name?" Quinn rubbed her short blonde mane of hair. "My name's Lucy…" She bobbed her head, happy with her decision to use her first name. "Wh—What's yours?"

The brunette kept her focus on the road ahead picking up speed once the light turned green. "Me, oh nothing special, my name's Rachel."


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'.
> 
> Setting the Scene: After an awkward drive over to Rachel's apartment. Quinn becomes the subject of one of Rachel and Santana's many arguments. Oh, and Brittany just keeps looking at her (what's up with that)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those worried, I am not going to kill off Quinn. I'm debating on some interesting ways to bring Quinn back to the 'real world'. I almost wish I had named this fic Coma, but I'm happy with The Crash. Anyways, again please don't worry Quinn isn't going to die. I'll go as far as to say, this fic will end the way the hiatus picked up. Rachel and Quinn interacting in front of a locker, Quinn's Rachel's I'm not sure could even be at Santana and Brittany's (since they are next to one another).
> 
> The reason/s for why Rachel won't realize who Quinn right away is more because she's in denial. Quinn's about 9-10 years in the future and it's not a happy future for Rachel and her other gleemates. She didn't handle Quinn's passing as bad as others, but she didn't handle well. Also, this Rachel isn't as obsessed with having a large and accurate vocabulary one of the few changes that have happened over the years. When you lose someone, as randomly as they have with Quinn, you tend to apply less focus on parts of yourself that make you, you, and that is what has happened to Rachel.
> 
> Finally, I understand the level of snow I'm talking about wouldn't constitute as a blizzard in many northern states. (I'm form the south, 2 inches of ice and we shut down for a week).
> 
> READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers.

**Quinn continued...  
**

"You're an idiot," groaned a voice from behind a weather-rotted wood bedroom door of the moderate apartment. They had been behind that door hidden away from the two other apartment occupants for…Quinn turned her attention to the small red-diamond digital clock that sat atop the 'vintage' linoleum covered plywood table. How could anyone let her – no – let them become so bad? The clock read nine-thirty-seven, fifteen minutes. The snow continued to fall in two-inch thick sheets.

The blonde listened closely to the rise and fall of irritated voices, how could she escape? The weather outside barricaded Quinn inside the small space she now considered a ticking time bomb.

"Excuse me?"

Quinn grimmest, she did not want to be the cause any trouble. The teenager, like the two arguing in the bedroom, had no idea of what was going on. Her mind still refused to believe the woman nice enough to offer her a ride and a warm place outside the cold was Rachel. Well, that was a lie. Quinn knew for-a-fact 'her' Rachel would act the exact same for a total stranger.

"You heard me, dwarf, you're an idiot. What compelled you to bring an ax-murderer here into our decrepit little home?"

The doorknob was released, the door creaked a crack no more than two inches wide revealed the two women inside. Rachel rubbed the back of her neck. Out of her Breadstix uniform, she wore a loose oversized charcoal grey wool sweater, it covered her rear just enough to cup its underside. Quinn bit her lip as she covertly stared into the two-inch crack. She wore those indigo blue skinny jeans very well.

"And, what was I supposed to do Santana, hmm?" Rachel's stance changed she cocked her hip, hand resting at its apex. "Let the girl freeze to death out there?" She pointed to the window. Their first floor apartment now in closed in two and a half of snow. She paced a few steps from Quinn's view.

Santana Lopez sat atop the queen sized bed. Her hair was loose like Rachel's; it flowed down her back longer than when she was a teenager. Unlike the tiny brunette she still wore a pair of pressed slacks and cotton button-down shirt, her clothes for work. The few minutes before the fifteen minute argument Quinn heard Santana ranting as she trekked through the snow up to their front door. She was an assistant in one of the few private law firms in Lima, she hated her job. The Latina grumbled twirled a piece of hair. Rachel broke Santana's resolve. Quinn smirked not even she could do that, well that fast anyway. Brittany was a whole other category when it came to Santana's resolve.

"Fine, fine, but if she goes all serial killer and gets me and Britt in our sleep and cuts off our hair or some shit. I'm haunting you Berry. I am haunting you so hard, and you won't know what hit you."

"Thank you, Santana."

"Yeah, Yeah, what-eve," Santana answered back. She rose from the bed walking in the direction Rachel had disappeared too. There was short hushed conversation before Santana exited the room.

Quinn locked eyes, with her best friend, from her seated position on the floor. She ran her hand nervously through the awful shag carpet. "I don't want—I mean…I won't be—um…thanks for…letting me stay here till the storm lets up…" _Idiot! Just keep your damn mouth shut!_ She mentally kicked herself. Quinn pressed her lips into her once HBIC smile, no more word vomit for this future Yale attendee.

Santana evaluated the anxious blonde. "Let's get this straight blondey," spoke the tired older Latina. She crouched eye to eye her hand ran delicately through Quinn's short blonde locks. "If it were completely up to me…you'd freeze out there." She pointed towards in the direction of another window. The snow had stopped for the moment. "But those two seemed to think you're okay…Lucy…" Santana flung Quinn's hair into her face and rose from her crouch.

The eighteen-year-old gulped. Santana disappeared into the kitchenette.

"You look so much like you, it's bothering her, real bad," stated a soft chipper voice from behind.

Quinn jumped. She forgot Brittany was in the room. The taller blonde observed her from a close distance ever since she and Rachel had entered the apartment no more than an hour ago. 'I thought Quinn was gone forever. Rachel, where did you find her?' Were the first sentences out of the out of Brittany's older still spacey self. After Brittany's question Rachel retreated to her room and had not exited since. Quinn suspected the tiny brunette only let Santana into her bedroom to avoid having to leave and argue with the ex-cheerio out in the open.

"What makes you think I'm whoever you think I am?" _Great they have you so nervous you're starting to speak like Brittany…_

Brittany shrugged. "You look like you, and you're getting nervous and twitchy like Quinn…and you're eyes are the same…no one eyes are the same right? Not when you look inside them." Quinn responded with a soft smile not even time could change the dancer's odd yet always accurate observations on the world around her. "I won't tell them it's you though because you have to tell them it's you right? Isn't that how coming back from where ever you came back from works?"

Quinn scratched her scalp. "Uh…thanks…"

"You're welcome! Everything changed when you left us forever, but now you're back so it will get better right?"

Silence passed between the two females. How do you tell someone, let alone a friend like Brittany? You have no idea when you are and why you are here. Quinn scratched her head once again. "I—uh Brittany what do you mean, everything's changed?" _Rachel working at Breadstix and you three living together isn't the strangest thing going on…seriously?_

Santana appeared sandwich in one hand and two beers in the other. "Come on Britt, let's get our cuddle on. Rudolph should be playing for the millionth time now." She walked past Quinn. "I'm watching you killer…even if my door is locked. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure whatever…."

Brittany leapt from her seated perch. "You can eat whatever. Don't let Sannie get to you. You never did before. Oh, oh if you get bored you and Rachel should totally come in watch with us, it's the best movie!" She gave the teenager a quick wave and shut the door her significant other disappeared into.

The digital red diamonds continued to circulate creating their specified numbers though time stood still. The overhead fan continued to sound as it spread the lukewarm air of the subpar dwelling. Quinn leaned back head against the couch cushion her focus the ceiling. She ran her fingers through the shag carpet for a second time. She groaned then rose from the floor. It was now or never, and she was not about to spend the whole night alone in this dark-depressing living space. She'd risk it if it meant not being alone. Quinn Fabray never did well when left alone.

Quinn pressed her ear against the weather-rotted door. She could hear the slush of water. The tiny brunette must have moved to her bathroom. She could hear the opening credits to Brittany S. Pierce's favorite Christmas film vibrate along the wall. The short-haired blond bit her lip, let loose her breath, she had no idea she held in, and opened the door without sound.

Rachel's bedroom was as depressing as the rest of the small home Quinn was privileged to see. A queen bed rested atop its metal frame no head or footboard attached. Two limp pillows rested at its head. A small television rested atop the dresser. A loan lamp lit the bedroom from atop its perch on the bedside table. Wallpaper tore at its seams behind the pictures of Rachel with hung along a while accompanied by a few of Kurt and Blaine, Mercedes and Sam, Mike and Tina, Sugar, and even Finn. Puck, and herself were strangely missing. She walked the pictures along the wall, most photos faded with time. Older but younger variations of the friends Quinn left behind.

The voice cleared, Quinn froze. She was caught she had invaded a private space, and was about to be punished.

"Can I help you?"

Quinn slowly turned in the direction of the voice. She held her breath. Rachel stood before her, tan body moist very, very moist, barely covered in a towel, and incredibly naked. _Oh my dear God…_

"What are you doing?" Rachel combed through her hair with a small hand.

"Bri—Brittany she invited us to watch Rudolph with her and…Santana…" _Good God…it was never this hard to talk to her before. Well…you never had to speak with her while staring at her naked body. No just imagined her naked body._ Quinn swallowed. _Your imagination did this tiny Jewish woman no justice._

Rachel held the towel tight to her chest. She watched Quinn and stepped to the side of bewildered blond. "Sure, I just…clothes…" Rachel pulled a set of comfortable pajamas from the top drawer of the dresser. She stepped to the side of frozen Quinn again, entering back into the bathroom door only partially closed.

"You can grab the pillows if you'd like," spoke Rachel from the confines of the bathroom.

Quinn blinked. "Pillows…," she whispered. "Pillows…right pillows! Sure, do you think they really want us in there?" She turned to the bed. She grabbed one placing it under her arm then bent forward to take hold of the other. A three-by-five photograph came into view. Quinn dropped the pillow it lay forgotten atop the queen bed. She took hold of the photograph, and not hearing Rachel exit the bathroom.

"Where did you find that?" Rachel's voice was stern, accusing.

"Pillow…you said—I just…it was under the pillow…fuck—Rachel…I didn't… It was under the pillow I'll put it back…" Quinn turned to place the tear-stained photo back in its designated spot. She held her breath when Rachel's finger tips brushed her hand as she snatched away the picture.

"This' private." The small young woman gripped tight to the bent, discolored, tear-stained, three-by-five photo. For 'this Rachel' the only photograph of the two, they held one another tight in the picture heads pressed desperately close with wide smiles. Their hands gripped tightly to each other in a hug outside at night on the back patio of the Puckerman house. Quinn loved that photo, and it was obvious to the blonde now that the tiny brunette loved that photo just as much as her.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'.
> 
> Setting the Scene: Quinn and Rachel have been watching Rudolph/television with Brittany and Santana till early morning. She Quinn begins to learn why her best friends have become so closed off and subdued. Rachel releases some 'stress'.

The short-haired blonde teenager meandered her way through the living area of the apartment to the kitchenette. Assigned the job of snack retriever Quinn began opening doors. Cabinet after empty cabinet she found their chipped opaque dishes and six dishwater stained glasses. She flipped the door of the largest cupboard. "Yes!" She pulled vegan friendly cookies, bags of chips, candy canes, and chocolate from its confines. The blonde placed the box of cookies, candy canes, and chocolate in a large plastic bowl she looked at the bags of chips and shrugged placing the unopened bag in her mouth and other in her hand, and began her venture back to the bedroom of her best friends.

The difficult walk back to Brittany and Santana's bedroom was stalled. Hung on along the small two and a half foot wall of open hallway from living room to bedrooms rested the largest framed photograph Quinn found in the apartment Rachel, Brittany, and Santana were younger than the blonde believed the group to be now, but still older than she herself possibly, twenty to twenty-one. She released the bag from her mouth, it fell to the floor. She set the other atop the bookshelf with the bowl. Quinn pulled the picture from the wall. They were smiling. Artie, Brittany, Finn, Mercedes, Mike, Rachel, Sam, Santana, and Tina, all wore sad genuine smiles. A sliver of black-cardboard backing glistened beneath frame glass. "Wait…" Quinn turned the picture, flicked the back hatches, and opened the frame. Staring up in her direction was Puck. He was bent to the back forgotten.

_Why would they—why would she...Rachel wouldn't do that to him._ Had they lost touch, a fight? The tiny brunette appeared in corner of her eye, she stood between the door and its frame. Brittany and Santana might not have been close with the mohawked teenager, but Rachel was. She was his Jewish American Princess, a title Quinn heard from his lips since they had lived together while she was pregnant with Beth. "Where is he, Puck? He's in none of these pictures." Quinn held out the picture back up exposing the bent ripped portion of Puck. "You have all these pictures of everyone, but where's Puck?" The blonde gripped the frame her knuckles white. This was the last straw. Quinn needed to understand why 'this Rachel' damaged herself so tossed the frame it slide across the carpet. "Did you cut him from these pictures like you did with this?"

"Who," asked Rachel? Quinn eyed the diva. She was over stepping, Quinn was not allowed to overact she was invading her space not the other way around. However, at this moment space did not matter. Quinn deserved answers just like Rachel.

"Who – who, Puck, where is he!" The blonde repeated. "He would never let you…any of you turn out…like this! You're working at Breadstix Rachel. You hate Breadstix," Quinn screamed. "Where is he, damn-it! Where is Puck?"

"He's dead! Noah's dead, he fell asleep drunk and his cigarette burned him alive five years ago! Are you happy?" Rachel screamed, she would not be accused of kicking aside her friendship with Puck. She paused. "H—how do you know, Noah?"

Puck is dead? Puck could not be dead. He was Puck, damn-it. "I lost my virginity to him, we have a daughter, Beth!" She looked at Rachel. Never in her five years of knowing the diva had Quinn seen the young woman as angry as she was now. "You don't think, I don't know I sound crazy!" The blonde with short hair paced. Her feet pressed a trail in the shag across the living area's carpet. She paused. _How long have I been 'dead'._ "What year is it?"

Rachel scoffed, how dare this teenager, change the subject. Both young women failed to notice their small audience. "2020."

"Wh—what? What!" Quinn flew her arms into the air as she stumbled back.

"Who—who the hell are you," accused Rachel. Her beautiful pronounced featured contorted with rage. The tiny brunette's body stiffened. Quinn stumbling across the hidden photo opened the floodgates. Years of pent-up over looked and ignored emotions now exposed. This emotionally released Rachel not only scared Quinn, but terrified the two other women. The wedding, the car crash, anything revolving around Quinn Fucking Fabray now considered taboo was released. "How do you know these things…We only met last night!"

Quinn gripped her short shaggy hair tight. Pulled her hands through to its tips never did she want her longer locks back more than she did now? Unable to continue the nervous run of her fingers the blonde bit her bottom lip. She needed to leave. "I'm Quinn Fabray! Lucy is my first name, no one ever remembers my first name!"

The fit dancer stepped forward ready to intervene, to separate Quinn and Rachel if emotions went awry. A position Brittany took too after Quinn and Rachel's 'first' ridiculous fight as friends. Santana gripped tight too her girlfriend's forearm. She whispered into the young woman's ear. Brittany stepped back, frown across her lips.

Silence washed the living area of the apartment. "You…You have to listen to me please." Quinn looked to the older women. She pleaded to her best friend for help, a woman now so cold not even her plea for help would convince the Latina. "I'm not crazy." She looked to Santana. "Brittany brought you to my house after everything with your Abuela. We went into the family room. We watched Star Trek and Star Wars the whole weekend because that's only way to make you smile when you're that upset. You have to geek-out." Santana watched the hysterical blonde stunned, how could she know those things. The Latina blinked back the tears.

"Rachel, I convinced you to back down on your nose job because no one as beautiful as you should ever try to fix themselves." Quinn continued to speak unable to stop. "You were the first person I told about applying to Yale!"

Rachel shook her head dramatically back and forth. "No no no—no…no! Quinn Fabray is dead! She died on impact with the truck. She was on her way to my wedding!" She continued to shake her head her body pressed against the now baron open hallway wall. "She was crushed by a truck!" Her body shook the small woman could barely stand. "You're lying, stop…stop it! You've been going through my things—our things, you had no right!"

The teenager saw the flicker that tiny flicker of hope in Rachel's eyes behind the rage. Quinn clung to it, and pulled the brunette close. "I know…this doesn't make any since because it doesn't make any since to me either."

Rachel pulled herself from Quinn. She looked to the ex-cheerios for help neither woman moved to help either friend.

"You found me in the bathroom on the first floor. You know the one down the hall from Glee…our bathroom…" Quinn finished under her breath. "I was the first you told about the engagement…I was so upset…I couldn't believe you would throw your life away for him like that…" Quinn took hold Rachel's shoulders. "Rachel…you—you were the first friend I told about my Yale acceptance…That was the same bathroom I slapped you in during the Prom our Junior year."

The tiny brunette yanked herself from the blonde's grasp.

"Get out…" Rachel looked at the floor. "Get out!" She turned to the front door her back to Quinn, Brittany, and Santana. "I did a nice thing, a really nice thing…and you have really made me regret it. So would you please…would you please just go… the snows let up…"

Quinn looked to Brittany. The taller blonde nibbled her bottom lip her right thumb looping with her left index finger. Santana's grip never loosed on her girlfriend Rachel released enough rage to overtake her own. "I'm not lying to you…" She whipped her tears and stumbled to the back. Quinn grabbed her coat. "I met all three of at different times of the day during eight grade orientation." She turned back to Brittany and Santana. "Freshman year we joined the cheerios…sophomore year I was captain..." Quinn looked to Rachel through raw eyes. "Rachel, you've helped me the most out of anyone I have ever known."

The diva whipped her nose then closed her eyes. "Just go…go…I'm sorry….just go…"

The teen nodded. Hand on the front door. "Fine…I'm not lying, I would never lie to any of you, but I'll go if that'll make you feel better…" She swung it open and took her step out into the freezing weather of an early Christmas morning.

Quinn rested her head against the wooden door. "I can't believe you did that Rachel." Quinn heard Brittany "Its Christmas…"

"You heard her…she was snooping…she knew things she shouldn't know…damn-it Brittany! Quinn's dead, she didn't walk outside the front door, and I didn't pick her up on the side of the road outside of Breadstix…," rebutted Rachel.

Quinn huffed. The tears continued to flow freezing her raw cheeks. "It's Christmas Rachel…please…" The door knob began to turn Quinn leapt from the door catching herself at the edge of the steps.

"I'm leaving like promised," Quinn yelled to whoever opened the door. "See, doing just what you wanted," she continued stopping at the edge of the Apartment's driveway. She turned to the voice.

"Wait…," the voice repeated. It was Rachel. "I over reacted…I…look please just come back inside its freezing."

"No—no I said I'd leave you alone. So here I am, leaving you alone." Quinn turned back to the street stepped from the drive out onto the asphalt road. Quinn never saw the truck as it made impact with her body throwing her to the ground.

Rachel screamed. "Call 911, hurry," she yelled. The tiny brunette rushed to the truck. A man exited the driver's seat. "Are you mad? You just hit someone!" The man stuttered words Rachel ignored him. All that mattered was the girl claiming to be Quinn Fabray. Rachel circled the large means of transportation. "Where is she? Where is the girl you just hit?" Rachel continued to look around the vehicle. The diva crouched Quinn had to be underneath. The blonde teenage girl she had picked up at the side of the road, and let into her home had vanished she was nowhere to be seen.

… _ **Present Day…**_

The pulse meter's irritating beep escaladed through the halls. Leroy Berry and Victor Lopez lead surgeons of Lima General took it upon themselves to reformat their schedules along with their newest resident Francis Fabray. Both men determined to bring the young blonde teenager, best friend to both their daughters, back to reality. They would bring Quinn Fabray to her family whole. Therefore, once the pulse meter escaladed from hallway to hallway of the fifth floor. Victor Lopez sped along the barren and cluttered halls.

Her scream started with a low groan the blonde teen's mind still latched to the other world. Quinn's closed eyes still viewed the large truck driving in her direction unable to slow down because of the road's minuscule patches of black ice. Her eyelids split open. She blinked she could nothing everywhere blinding white dull white walls, bright florescent white lights, and glairing yellow-white early afternoon sunlight. Too much, everything was too much for her tired mind to handle. She screamed.

"Quinn, Quinn! Sh…shh…Sweetheart, it's okay, everything's alright," Dr. Lopez soothed. The Latin man watched the shock fade away to fear. Quinn clutched his white cotton lab coat tight tears flowed down her cheeks. She may be awake, but the girl the older man grew to love as one of his own vanished within herself. He needed to speak with Leroy maybe keeping all the details from their daughters was not the best idea.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'.
> 
> Setting the Scene: Rachel and Santana have returned to the hospital, after their ordeal from the previous day. They stumble on a frantic Victor Lopez and follow Santana's father to see what has caused him such stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment I'm not really sure of what's going to be the cause for Quinn reentering the present. Right now, I'm working with the idea that she comes back to the present when the drug isn't 100% in her system b/c for the next few chapters if it's in Rachel's POV and Quinn's 'awake' well Quinn's not going to be very lucid when they interact.
> 
> This is a short chapter, but necessary chapter. I hope to have chapter 6 up within the next week or so, it will be longer than the last three. This update amount is crazy for me, and not normal. So I apologize for future updates not being so quick.
> 
> READ, REVIEW and ENJOY! I live on constructive criticism, it makes me want to do better and cater even more towards my readers.

**Rachel**

The two 'friends' arrived at Lima General. The large-oversized black SUV pulled into the basement parking spot. A Latina teenager, wet freshly washed hair pulled back into a ponytail, exited the driver's seat. She wore a pair of dark denim skinny jeans and a loose satin-silk purple and yellow tank top. Her Cheerio's bag tossed in the backseat atop her forgotten books.

"Agreeing to drive you with me to the hospital didn't mean you could slack off, midget."

A second occupant, much smaller than the first, slid from the SUV to the ground. She wore a simple dress in a geometric floral lavender and white print. Her school bag rested neatly against her left side. Rachel Berry would be driving home with her father at the end of his shift at 5pm later the same evening. Now, her time was meant for Quinn, a daily need, taking a toll on her relationship with her fiancé.

"Yo, Berry." Santana snapped her fingers in front of Rachel's face. "I know visiting hours don't end till like whenever, but I didn't get out of Cheerio's practice just to watch you zone-out like some drug addict." She snapped her fingers once last time.

Sue Sylvester allowed Santana a leave of absence with this afternoon's Cheerio's practice. As long as she informed the mentally deranged Cheerleading Coach of Quinn's healing progress. It was not a secret Quinn Fabray had had an episode at the hospital. Well, it was not a secret because of one Kurt Hummel and his big mouth that vomited gossip. It was Rachel's outburst at her best friend which caused the co-captain to offer a car-ride to the hospital this afternoon.

Rachel blinked then quickly shook her head. "I apologize, Santana it's just…Finn has been bothering me all day. Claiming I spend too much time at the hospital."

Santana waved away her answer her back to the small diva as she stepped into the elevator door. "Well come on."

Rachel stepped quickly one large stride after the other to the elevator before the doors shut.

…

The teenager girls heard an irritating beep escaladed throughout the halls of the hospital's fifth floor. Rachel and Santana looked to one another, what the hell was going on?

Just then as they watched nurses and residences rush from room to room. Victor Lopez, in his robin's egg blue scrubs and lab coat jogged the hall with no passing glance. "What-the-hell…Quinn's room's down that way, come-on!" Santana took hold of Rachel's forearm, and rushed past the reception desk Rachel stumbling close behind. The tiny brunette waved apologetically to the large nurse who returned to her seat.

Screams emanated from room 509. The screaming became frantic. Quinn's screams developed into hysterical swallows of breath. The Cheerio's quick steps turned into a swift run along the hall. Her grip on Rachel's arm forgotten as the small teenager followed suit with a sprint. Unspoken irritations between the two forgotten, Quinn was all that matter.

They watched Victor Lopez rock the eighteen-year-old blonde with freshly cropped hair. "Quinn, Quinn! Sh…shh…Sweetheart, it's okay, everything's alright," Dr. Lopez soothed. He continued to rock the terrified girl. A nurse attached a large needled syringe to the IV bag, and began portioning a clear liquid into Quinn's medicine. "Shh…sh…" Santana's father rubbed clockwise circles atop the Ex-Cheerio's back.

Rachel gasped…was this their Quinn? Was this what her stupid unnecessary text message caused? What had she done to the girl she considered her closest friend. Her mouth opened no words came. She could only watch as Quinn's screams turned to whimpers and her whimpers turned to heavy gasps for air. Rachel held back the tears, the tears could wait.

"D—Daddy…," spoke Santana her voice soft inaudible. Her voice was the voice of a lost child. Never in all her years of knowing Santana would she believe the hardheaded girl capable of such loss. "Wh—what's wrong with…Dad—dy why's Quinn…"

Victor Lopez observed his daughter and colleague's. The older man with stress grayed hair pressed his lips, and turned his attention back to the blonde. Her heart rate calmed he watched Quinn's breathing steady she faced forward eyes opened staring in the direction of her blanket covered feet. The poor girl was lost, and she would remain lost until her mind felt ready to handle the world that continued around her. The doctor stroked her again soothing the teen-girl as a father should. Her lids fluttered the drugs given by the nurse starting to take effect.

Rachel watched Dr. Lopez rest Quinn's body against the hospital bed. Her chest fell back and forth she looked peaceful. "Dr. Lopez…could we…could Santana and I stay with her?"

Victor rose to his feet. He smiled. "Of course I'll let your father know you're here, and I'll make sure you're not bothered." The doctor looked to his daughter. "If anything changes you press that button, hmm?" He motioned to the long wire and red button attached to Quinn's bed.

Santana nodded. Victor exited the room.

The girls sat on either side of Quinn. They looked down in her direction. "Will she always be like this?"

"I don't know…"

Each teen took a hand. "This is my fault. If I had not been so impatient…"

Quinn's hands gripped tight to the Latina and tiny diva.

"Just…shut-the-fuck-up Rachel…just shut-up right now please…" Santana pleaded her eyes never leaving the blonde.

The two schoolmates sat in silence staring at the lost-broken girl. The girl they considered the strongest person they knew, and Rachel decided there she would do whatever it took to bring the Quinn they all loved so much back.

**Quinn**

… _Breadstix 2020…_

What the hell. _Oh My God!_ One minute she could was screaming hyperventilating even, but she could see him. She could see Dr. Lopez Santana's father coxing her body and mind. Then the nurse started putting another liquid into her IV, and then she saw them. She saw Rachel and Santana, her Rachel and Santana, at the doorway to her hospital room. However, the medication gripped her tighter pulling her away.

She tapped the edge of the Breadstix booth. Here she was again, in a place that she was not meant to be. Quinn looked at the tabled. She wore a different set of cloths, and resting against the wooden seat panel was the same cane from before. _Oh, well then…_

The waitress rushed past and skidded to a halt. "Oh my god, I'm so—so sorry. I didn't see you there. What can I get you?"

Quinn looked up her eyes locked with Rachel. "Anything with a lot of bacon will work for me…heh…hey, Rachel…"

The small brunette young woman stared to the point of any normal person would consider rude. Not Quinn, she would kill to have the diva stare at her for that long anywhere or anytime. "Qui…h—how?"

All Quinn could do was shrug.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rachel has ended her shift and she and Quinn sit down for a much needed talk.

Lucy Quinn Fabray, ex-cheerleader, former skank, and teen-mom slurped the last piece of stray bacon from her plate. She ignored the disgusted snarl of Rachel Barbra Berry as she watched the eighteen-year-old. At least the idea of eating meat was a continuing factor with this form of Rachel.

"Let's say I believe you."

Quinn pushed the stick of bread through the streaks of bacon grease left atop the glazed plate. She bit into the stick, attention on the older woman.

"Let's say I believe you," repeated Rachel. "And, you are in fact Quinn…how the hell are you here…you look—you look just like..."

Quinn shrugged. "I don't know how. They keep pumping me with something—"

"They—someone's putting drugs into your system without your consent," interrupted Rachel.

The blonde growled. She hated being interrupted and it did not matter that the brunette looked and for intensive purposes was older than the teenage. Quinn quirked her brow, being very Quinn, she bit into the stale stick of bread crumbs landed everywhere, Rachel grimmest. The blonde chuckled stray bread dust hit her plate. No one interrupted Quinn Fabray.

"As I was saying…the hospital staff keep pumping something into my body, and I end up here." She finished the bread stick then placed the maroon cloth napkin atop the empty plate. Rachel offered to close for the night if the cook let her 'friend' have last meal of the night. "What I want to know is…why…how did this happen?"

Rachel looked at the fake-wood table varnished table. She never spoke with anyone, Kurt pried at first and Brittany would look at her with sad-sunken expression. Santana never pried because that way Rachel would never pry back with her. Her thumbnail played with the plywood.

"You said you believed me…"

"I said 'let's say I believe you'…"

The teenager puffed. "You're so…" Quinn groaned. "Damn-it I've been answering your questions since I got here. I deserve some of my own answered now! How did this happen? You were so excited about NYADA…what happened?

You know what—fine! You want more proof? Sophomore year about a week, no, two before you started had Finn so enamored with joining Glee. Along with making my life hell—at the time," Quinn's voice continued to rise. "During that time before everything with Glee started. You caught me in the bathroom with a magic marker. I was starting one my many—many 'pornographic' pictures of you." The blond paused. "I wiped it away while you were in the stall…" She watched Rachel gasp. No one knew this moment not even Santana. "It was easier to stop and erase what I started, not even Coach could've saved my hide…if you had gone to Figgin's with the proof that I was the one drawing those pictures…" She bit her lip. "So, I wiped it clean and acted like nothing had ever happened."

The clock in the corner clicked. The teen and young woman watched the clock hands reach the twelve and ten spots. They had sat in the booth for almost an hour. "I really should lock up." Rachel rose from her seat. She pulled the plate from its forgotten spot, and made her way to the kitchen.

"You're unbelievable, get back her Rachel! It doesn't matter when or where ever I am—you are still going an insufferable bitch! Stop avoiding my questions, and hold up your side of the bargain," Quinn continued to rant following Rachel to the back kitchen, she froze.

Rachel Berry sat back against the wall her khaki skirt the barrier between her and the film covered title kitchen floor. Tears flowed from her eyes. Quinn fell to her knees she gripped tight to the brunette's hands. "Not here…please just not here. I can't talk about it here." The blonde nodded. She took the keys from her hands. "Quinn—what are you…"

"Locking up Breadstix."

…

They sat atop the musty shag carpet. Quinn held the hot cup of citrus tea to her lips, she breathed in the fruity scent. Brittany and Santana were nowhere to be found. Mid-afternoon Christmas Day the two women drove to the Pierce family home to spend the next few days with Brittany's parents, older brother, his family, and her younger sister. Rachel declined her invite, she had to work. Quinn watched the brunette.

Rachel discarded her full cup of tea letting it sit "I was in New York for a year and a half, but everything there felt wrong. When—when you died…I couldn't…no one was the same, but I tried...I missed you so much, we barely started our friendship and in a matter of months you were gone. I couldn't let myself…you lost your future just like that…why should I have my chance at a future. When you were never going to have yours…

Well, I came home from New York…feeling worthless. Kurt tried desperately along Noah to convince me to return to New York with him. They thought if I was with a friend then maybe, just maybe, I could be motivated enough to finish school and started the career I dreamed of for so long. As you can see…I didn't listen." Rachel motioned to their surroundings. "I refused to live at home and live off my fathers. So, I moved in with Noah. The only place offering work was Breadstix, I took the job."

An uneasy pregnant pause passed through the living room of the mediocre two bedroom apartment. Rachel released a ragged breath. "I was at work when it happened. I took the night shift that the night it happened…with you gone and only me to nag him Noah picked up smoking again." The brunette whimpered her mind picturing the moment in time. "He came home from a heavy day of work, he found a job in construction, all he wanted was to have a few drinks and a smoke. Except, he was exhausted, and he looked it."

Quinn set her mug next to Rachel's, and took hold of the older woman's hand.

"Noah…he fell asleep, and the alcohol it dulled his senses just enough… he didn't smell the smoke or hear the alarm till it was too late…"

Two drops splashed against her jeans as Quinn's lower lids overflowed with tears. She released Rachel's hand gripping tight to her own knee. The blonde was overwhelmed with emotion. She needed to comfort the woman who considered her to be her best friend. Quinn pushed forward taking both Rachel and herself by surprise.

Lips touched. Eyes shut and bodies unable to move from shock. A hand held tight to her jaw fingers lacing themselves with short blonde locks of hair. Mouths opened in a simultaneous motion granting better access for the other as their kiss deepened. Neither could stop, and neither tried intoxicated by one another's smell and taste. Quinn and Rachel were lost in one another.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While recovering from her accident Quinn is placed under the care of one of the more radical doctors in Lima. With his eccentric and what some would say out-of-date methods Quinn is pulled from reality, and given a chance to view the world after her 'death'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quinn and Rachel have gravitated to Rachel's bedroom. If Brittany and Santana have returned neither have any idea.

Quinn and Rachel rested together in a tangle of limbs. Quinn's cloths sat neatly folded and the heavy wool coat rested atop an old swivel office chair. The blonde stroked the cheek of the brunette who wore an oversized long-sleeve cobalt blue jersey cotton shirt. The teenager kissed the exposed tan shoulder. She too wore one of the Rachel's oversized shirts, hers a deep maroon.

Rachel proposed their current state of calm and tangled limbs. Quinn, the one to open the flood gates of emotion became the one to pull back and close off.

…Twenty minutes prior…

Coral and rose pink lips clashed against one another. Tan hands, recently manicured, disappeared within the heavy wool coat the young woman's fingers gripped to the hips, lower back, and shoulders of the teen.

A groan escaped the blonde as her thin upper lip trailed the hot tan exposed skin of the young woman. Her lithe hands ran desperate trails from the brunette's rear to shoulder blades. Another sound, a moan, escaped the taller of the two. She felt polished nails scrap across the hidden skin of her abdomen, then curl into her jeans.

Quinn's eyes opened with a start. She felt the brass button break free, and heard the zipper as the tight material of her pants loosen around her toned legs. Quinn took hold of Rachel's hands prying them from her skinny-jeans. "I—I'm sorry. Rachel…" She looked to the floor ashamed, her mess of hair hiding her away from the hurt no-doubt crossing her secret-crush's face. "I want—need this so much, but what you've waited close to ten years for…" She was Quinn 'Fuckin' Fabray, she was no coward. Yet here she stood terrified of what may come. "I've barely had three—no—four months to properly process my – my feelings..." Quinn stuttered.

Rachel pulled back. Hand underneath the blonde's chin she lifted her perfect face, only place the iritic bangs and place them behind Quinn's ear. Eyes met, deep brown and hazel lost in each other. The tiny brunette left feather light kisses atop either side of Quinn's jaw finally ending with a deep drawn out kiss of lips against lips. "Than just lie with me, Quinn, like you said I've waited close to ten years for this, and I can wait longer. If it means I can still be close to you." She released Quinn, and turned to the large chest of drawers.

Quinn nodded dumbly. "I don't have anything to wear."

…

"I didn't tell you to stop." Quinn smiled. She continued the feather touch of her knuckle along Rachel's bare shoulder.

"Where do you go?"

"Hm?"

"Where do you go when you…" Rachel paused. Quinn could see her ponder her own query before asking once more. "Where are you really meant to be?"

Quinn gave pause. Where did she go when pulled back from this dreary future? She knew it was the hospital, and she knew from the sounds, her mother and Frannie would visit, but, where in the hospital, she had no idea. "I'm not…I think…I'm at Lima General I know that. Where that—that changes…sometimes it's bright other times it feels cold…and lonely very lonely."

The brunette huffed, a puff of air flailing her bangs about. Quinn chuckled, free hand smoothing the bangs to their place. "That's awful no one should ever feel cold and alone."

She agreed. No one should ever feel the way, she felt, when she awoke lucid or not. "Where is…no…who is…" Quinn paused, no clue of how to ask the one question which latched deep to her throat ready to release tears once asked. "Do you ever see Beth?"

Rachel froze, Quinn looked on confused. This really been the question to confuse the brunette of all the questions she had asked. The question in regards to her daughter would be the one to cause pause with the young woman. "Not anymore…Shelby and I haven't been on the best of terms of late, so I guess the last I spoke with Beth she was…seven, eight perhaps." She shifted her body resting at her side rather than atop her stomach. The oversized shirt exposed a tan breast the edge of its nipple's peak just in view of the blonde.

Quinn nodded eyes drifting to exposed breast, she wet her lips. Now was a time for a change of subject. "You should get some sleep."

Rachel shook her head.

Quinn huffed. "Rachel, you need to rest." She stopped her strokes her palm resting against the tired, slack, yet beautiful features of the girl—no—woman she had convinced herself was a silly crush.

"No, if I shut my eyes you'll disappear," Rachel yawned, her eyes lulled. Quinn pulled forwards her delicate hand gone replaced with her lips. She kissed Rachel's face till she felt the steady-even breath. "Quinn…I just got you back…I can't—don't want to lose you—again…," her speech slowed as she drifted off.

She watched as Rachel drifted to sleep, her body exhausted from a ten hour work day. Quinn watches and she longs for her, for her Rachel. She had to tell her how she felt there was no holding back now. She rose from the bed, and crept towards the attached bathroom.

Rachel

…Second Visit to Lima General…

"I can finally see her?"

"Yeah, but we need too—wait for Santana." Frannie survived the vending machine for the third time today. If this visit were to reach its fifth or sixth then the dirty-blonde would ask for a break from the hospital for the night. She eyed her sugar treat and began to punch the numbers. Rachel and the older Fabray sister watched one another from the reflective plastic. "I promised, okay. She begged, that girl never begs for anything, but she and I quote 'please Fran…don't let the midg—Berry see Quinn without me! Please!'" She laughed taking hold of the candy pulling it from its confines. "Speak of the devil"

"You do keep your promises. I thought for-sure she'd have annoyed you into letting her see my girl before me." Rachel jumped to attention. She could see Santana Lopez and Brittany S. Peirce's reflections from the linoleum floor close-in on herself and Quinn's older sister. "Alright, well…come-on!" The reflections continued past Rachel, it may be best to follow the actual teens Rachel reasoned, and she was met with the smiling eyes of Brittany.

"Hi, Rachel!"

"Hi, Brittany," Rachel returned with the same delight, but with less enthusiasm.

Francine, hand gripped tight to the door handle, turned to her teenager-baby-sister's friends. "A few things before...she's a bit, well, she's out of it. I was able to get a sentence out of her earlier, but just barely. And, it wasn't even coherent for the most part. Anyway, she asked about you three and that's a good sign."

Santana's eyes lit at this new information. Brittany began to bounce on the balls of her feet shaking Santana's arm with the excitement that Quinn not only remembered who she was, but had asked for her. Rachel, Rachel kept a stone face a slight smile crossing her lips. She had to maintain composer as the letter had begged. A letter she did not remember much about, but a letter she saved unread until this incident.

Frannie took the moment with the girls before continuing her tiny speech. "She's lucid and very tired. If she dozes off, we'll have to keep this short visit even shorter…alright?"

Rachel and Santana nodded.

"What's lucid," asked Brittany.

Rachel glanced at the intertwined cheerleaders' hands. Santana gave Brittany's a quick squeeze. "She's hopped up on drugs, B..." Santana looked to the tall dancer. "You remember that time freshman year when she took those two Benadryl at the same time, and she crawled onto her bed and fell off."

Brittany bobbed her head. "She's going to talk funny like then too?"

The brass cheerleader held her breath before answering her girlfriend. "Yeah, I hope so. Gotta get some sort of blackmail of this whole situation, now don't I?" Rachel watched Santana wipe a stray tear from her lower lid and clean it from her finger with her skirt. The small brunette took hold of the Latina's hand, and held it tight.

Santana never pulled away with disgust.

The blonde Fabray in hospital scrubs opened the door. "Hey four-eyes. You have visitors." She moved to the side hand still holding the opened door. "You'll need to whisper, loud noise is still an issue with her at the moment."

Quinn Fabray lied in the over fluffed hospital bed. Her body propped upright forty-five – fifty degrees. Her blonde hair closer to the length from the beginning of the school year, the length Rachel had come to love. She wore a hospital gown, a pale purple not the typical teal. Brittany, Rachel, and Santana crept without sound across the room to the foot of the bed, and Frannie shut the door with a soft click.

"Wh—why's her hair shorter?" The question had crossed Rachel, but was Quinn's rash best-friend who spoke it aloud first.

"Mom, said it was getting in her cuts didn't want blood in her hair, so I cut it back a bit." Francine sat atop the small stool close to the door. Chairs were designated to visitors.

She blinked then took a breath. They gasped Quinn's simple movement of a blink then a breath made her accident all too real, and Rachel shed tears she hoped had finished. The petite diva held tight to the IVed hand. She ran her thumb across ice-cold fingers. "Oh, Quinn…I'm so—sorry this was my entire fault…" Quinn rapped a finger around the middle and ring fingers of Rachel's hand, her head rotating in the direction of the noise. Brittany bit at her bottom lip, death grip around Santana's jacketed arm. Santana, held her breath. Then bright beam of light ran its way through the closed blinds. She flinched, let loose a groan, and closed her eyes tight.

Whatever hold on Quinn Fabray lost as she drifted away, back into where ever she had come from.

Quinn

…Lima, Ohio's Suburban Streets…

This was new, well not, new in the since of a new place. Quinn knew of this place, this house, this neighborhood. This was after all her neighborhood though the homes felt different, dated. Aside from the directly across that home she knew. She recognized the two story basement-attached middle class home. Well, aside from the odd array of landscaping and the budding new flowers. Where-ever she was, when-ever she was Quinn Fabray, cropped blonde and ex-head cheerleading teenager, stood stock-still as her hazel eyes adjusted to the bright new-morning sun.

Now was not then, or was it. She may have only appeared, disappeared, then reappeared a few times, but Rachel was always there. Rachel had always been close enough for her to find. And now, now all Quinn could see from one end of this Lima, Ohio Suburban Street to the other was a little girl, a little girl no more than five, no, perhaps six.

The girl hummed at angel-pitch. She wore a bright pink fleece pullover coat above what Quinn could only guess to be a mauve corduroy dress and thick white tights. Dark hair held back with a headband. She sat atop the single step walkway that separated sidewalk and street from the homeowner's lot, large chunk of pink colored chock in hand.

"Where'd you come from," yelled the angel-pitch voice.

"I—um… What," stammered the blonde with a high yelp?

"Where. Did. You. Come. From," asked the girl once-again. Then the heavy nostril release of air. The little girl had huffed. If Quinn had not seen the girl she would have mistaken the sound for a small-no-medium-sized dog. "I have been out here like-ever, and I have never seen you before."

Damn-it!

"I live...," Quinn pointed behind her right shoulder.

"You live with the crazy-lady-down-the-block-with-the-tacky-moo-moo?" The girl spoke the description as if it had been used by a parent in the comforts of their own home.

She stocked in the direction of the little girl. Her shadow hovered over the girl engulfing her whole body causing the small child to shiver from a fresh chill of air. "Oh yeah, and what makes you so smart hmm?" Quinn paused. "What's to say I haven't just moved-in?"

Girl attention back to her chalk drawing answered. "I know every-buddy on the block." She shrugged. "And," she spoke loud. "And—there wasn't a moving van. There is always a moving van."

Teenager watched child, and child watched Teenager. "Okay, so I don't live with the crazy-lady-down-the-block."

"With-the-tacky-moo-moo," finished the girl.

Quinn chuckled. "Yes, with the tacky moo-moo." She faced the street then fell back to the grass her skinny-jeaned rear landing with a heavy plop. She took a chunk of lavender chalk and began to push and pull it across the concrete. "Alright, I'm not from around…here so sue me."

The tiny girl gaped at Quinn. How dare she take her chalk without asking? She forced her hand in front of the blonde's face. She shook it variously. "That makes you a stranger, now give it back, and go away." Quinn could feel the girl's soft brown eyes glaring metaphorical daggers into her skull. This child was relentless that or one of the best trained five-year-old out there when it came to not speaking with strangers.

Yeah, if only I could, kid. If only I could. The teen paused. It seemed to work before might as well use it again.

"Well, I'm Lucy. Does that make me a stranger anymore?" The girl shook her head, bottom lip between her teeth. "What's your name?" The focus given to her drawing, gone, she turned back to Quinn.

The little girl stood, now eye-to-eye with Lucy Quinn Fabray. She moved the chunk of pink chalk from her right hand to her left, and held it out-stretched, and Quinn took hold. "Rachel Barbra Berry," answered the little girl as she began to shake her arm up and down.

She froze, this had to be karma, all the bad names and slushy-facials. Everything finally came back to haunt her in the time-altered forms of Rachel Barbra Berry. What the fucking-hell is going on!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quinn is with Rachel outside her home. Their banter continues as Quinn finishes her drawing on the concrete sidwalk.

Quinn swirled her piece of lavender chalk along the empty canvas of concrete, given by the petite brunette. The teenager bit her grin while eying her masterpiece. "Those are stick figures," spoke the mater-of-fact way tone of the five-year-old.

"Yeah."

"But—but, you're an adult. Adults don't draw stick figures," grumbled Rachel as she continued to color in her pink kitty-cat. "Adult draw real things, like flowers and…they draw real things!"

The blonde smiled, she could tongue tie the small brunette, even at five-years-old, who weaseled her way into her heart. "Well, then its good I'm not an 'adult' yet." Quinn eyed the girl's skepticism. "I'm barely eighteen."

Rachel puffed a sigh, focus back to the pink cat. "That's growed—grown-up. You can vote adults all vote." She set the pink chalk atop the pile of assorted colors, and held out a small hand for the lavender chalk taken by the blonde. Quinn handed it over. "Do you live on the other block? You do-not live here."

"No, no I don't live here—well I'll live here…soon. Not this block, but my family will be moving to Lima."

"Really, when? Will I get to see you! My Daddy says Lima is small, but I do not know everyone here so I can't be that small."

Teenager watched child, and child watched teenager. Quinn lent back her biceps and elbows resting against the shallow slope of grass. She spread her legs and gazed at her static image of two stick figures drawn with lavender chalk. "Yeah, yeah you'll get to see me Rachel...almost every day," Quinn finished under her breath. She eyed the figures of thick smeared chalk, two girls, one with swirls of uneven short hair, and the other's hair long jagged uneven lines colored in purple. The figures held hands. "You really don't like it, the drawing?" She felt the minuet breeze from the swishes of Rachel's shaken head. "It's a portrait…"

"A portrait," asked Rachel curiosity taking hold of rationality.

"Yep…of us…because—because friends draw pictures of themselves with their best friends…"

Soft delicate arms enveloped Quinn in a vice-like grip. Rachel leapt into the blonde's exposed lap. Five-year-old, light as a bird, watched the 'barely eighteen-year-old' assessing her next move. Rationality and logic be dammed. Rachel rapped her arms around Quinn's neck. The blonde huffed as her manufactured nose grazed the soft tip of Rachel's.

"Best-friend," asked the little girl in a breathless whisper.

Quinn nodded.

Then a squeal of an unbelievably high pitch, Quinn's chuckle transformed to a gasp as she felt the tiny lips of one Rachel Barbra Berry kiss her right side just below her cheek and above the jaw. Rachel rolled her small forehead back and forth against the nape of the teen's neck and murmured a 'thank you'.

She looked to the sky, Quinn, she felt the salt filled liquid drip from her lower lids her body swelled with a happiness she never thought possible.

"Ar—are you okay? Lucy did I squeeze you to hard?"

She paused. Shook her head, and whipped away the tears with her coat sleeve. Quinn laughed. "Never, you could never squeeze me to hard Rachel…never…" Rachel leapt from the blonde's lap. Quinn laughed harder. Not even Rachel Berry could escape the attention span of a five-year-old. "Where are you going," she asked chuckle latched to her voice.

"Daddy—camera—my Daddy has a camera. I want to take a picture of my portrait before the street washes it away." Rachel yelled as she scampered towards the front door to find her father.

That's right…damn-it I forgot...

A street washer would make it's away along the streets of Lima, Ohio twice a month thirty-seven degrees or lower the only way to deter that awful machine. Five years in Lima, and the street washer had become Quinn's natural street enemy that was until she was hit by that truck. Every morning it would drive by her home since she had learned to drive a trip to the car wash was needed before arriving at school parking lot.

"Daddy, Daddy I need the camera! Get the camera…Cause I want a picture of my portrait! The street will wash it away tomorrow morning and I won't have it anymore…that's why!" Quinn shook her head still as controlling as ever. "My Best-Friend drew it for me! I must have a picture!"

Quinn blinked hand at her side. She felt a sudden pain a gut-retching pain. "Not now, why does it always have to be now…" Quinn groaned a puff of air. Of course I'm acting like all of this is completely normal now. She rose from the glass hand gripping tightly to her side. Quinn screamed as she staggered forward unable to gain her foot the pain from her abdomen creating a blur, and with staggered step she tripped atop the curb falling fast forward between the two cars in front of the Berry home.

"Lucy, Lucy I got..." Rachel's voice drifted out into an empty space.

Rachel

Rachel stood in front of her mirror today exhausted her, and she had ten minutes until one of her fathers came to her door to announce dinner. She tossed her purse to her bed before falling atop the edge. "This' my entire fault…Quinn I'm so—so sorry…" She fell back arms out stretched before pulling her phone from her coat pocket. Three missed calls, four text messages. She rose.

A missed call from her Dad no doubt letting her know he was home and to tell her Daddy that he would have dinner ready once his rounds were done for the night.

Kurt had left a text: Rach…Quinn's going to be okay. She's stronger than any of us and you know it.

Mercedes sent a text: Hey. Give a call when you're finished. We'll have a girl's night.

And even Puck: My Baby Mama's a fighter, she'll get through this…

But it was Finn who just would not let it go with three missed calls and a text: Rach answer the phone pls

Rachel tossed her phone away. Continue the evening just like any other day, meaning now was the time to remove the foundation, and she sluggishly made her way to her vanity. The diva eyed the photographs of her friends every one placed strategically never allowing any to hide a face, and then she saw it. A photograph, faded wrinkled. A photograph of lavender chalk on concrete. Her mind instantly began to battle within itself. It knew the memory the portrait of best friends drawn in chalk a girl with swirls of curls who held hands with another jagged straight lines hair colored in purple. This memory sat fresh in her mind as if it had only happened moments ago yet she knew…she knew it had happen over a decade ago…

…Previously same day – Quinn's hospital room…

"I think she's dreaming but not dreaming…"

Rachel and Santana looked to Brittany confusion crossing both teens. They had sat in silence each processing the ordeal only moments ago involving Quinn. Rachel gulped her breath. Francis had zoned out eyes closed resting atop a stool beside the bathroom door.

"What was that babe," asked Santana the most of the two girls used to Brittany's outbursts.

"Quinn's dreaming but not dreaming," repeated Brittany with pause. "Her eyes their moving…" Rachel and Santana turned focusing in the direction of Quinn, and sure enough beneath her lids was the slightest movement. "My—my Dad said your eyes move when you dream…but Q's are moving faster like—like she's awake but a sleep at the same time."

Rachel processed there was truth to the statement how was it even possible. "Brittany…I…don't…" Santana held out her hand this was Brittany she would handle it.

"B…I don't think—it's not that simple."

Quinn's eyes shot open. Tears rolled along soft sunken cheeks. "Rachel…," her voice a usual rasp, echoed against the hospital sick white walls like gravel against sandpaper.

The barely there voice, brought on a simultaneous whiplash too the three teens whispering amongst themselves. "Quinn!" Brittany chirped. Rachel gasped. Santana yelped. Each rose from their hushed corner they hovered the bed.

Petite brunette observed the mangled blonde, body covered with a thin film of sweat. Had she a fever, Francis mentioned nothing of Quinn being sick? Rachel's heart ached and the singer took hold of the re-instated cheerio's hand. Digital Phalanges curled into the Opponens Digiti Minimi mussel her left hand. Rachel gasped a loose tear hit the blonde's sun-touched skin. Quinn's hand—no her fingertips gripped faint-desperate against the palm of her hand. It was a blink, a flash, a piece time shorter than time itself, and then gone.

Erratic, high-pitched, untouchable beeps reverberated within the bedroom. Frannie was at Quinn side, neither girl saw her rise. One minute the eldest Fabray girl slumped against the wall eyes shut resting her mind, the next she was checking her baby sister's pulse, eyeing the fluids, and analyzing the heart monitor, the heart monitor! The inanimate box continued its alert. Rachel glanced to Brittany, who gripped Santana's hands tight. Rachel paused the scene before her ran in fast forward as she, Brittany, and Santana sat by in slow-motion. She watched the hard, stoic faced Latina, the cheerio's focus on the state of the blonde dancer. No, Rachel blinked. It was not Santana who held the two together. No, no that role went to Brittany, as Santana like Rachel watched fast forward of the scene before them.

Francis continued her examination of Quinn she lifted her sister's eye lids, turned her head to the left then to the right. Rachel watched Frannie without a care lift her sister's gown allowing the teenagers the briefest exposures to Quinn's bare breasts. Stethoscope and hand disappeared as the older sister desperately checked for the piece of the heart beat.

Then the nurses rushed through, one held tight to fluids, while another made way for a doctor, older than both Rachel and Santana's fathers. The diva could make out only an unkempt beard unable to find his face as the same nurse ushered the three gleemates out. She watched the doctor lift high a needle—a needle filled with clear liquid. The door shut tight.

…

Silence, silence aside from the protective yells of protests by Francis Fabray.

…

Suddenly Rachel felt her body pinned to one of the sturdy eggshell walls of Lima General. Eye-to-eye Santana glowered. "What did you do," yelled Santana. Rachel could fill the bruise forming as her back was forced into the wood-plastic side paneling of the hallway wall. The smaller of the two petite teenager girls held in her gasp of pain. "What the fuck did you do to her?" To say Rachel was terrified would be an understatement she had never seen Santana so angry, irritated maybe but never this angry.

"Sannie! Sannie, Santana stop," Brittany growled as she pried her away from Rachel with such force the diva could have sworn she saw the Latina wince as she hit the wall. "Rachel had nothing to do with that and you know it." There was no sarcastic retort no gripe of retaliation. Santana just slides against the wall and slumps her body forwards and begins to cry her unshed tears.

Brittany rushes falling to Santana's side. The tall blonde takes hold of brash cheerleader's cheeks and kisses her forehead before taking hold and not letting go. Rachel watches to envying—wishing for the bond those two share. She steps forward and falls to Santana's other side, and takes hold of the girl's hand. She squeezes.

"I'm sorry…"

"It's alright, Santana you're emotions are on high, I take no offense."

...Rachel's bedroom…

Rachel blinked. Today had…nothing seemed to make since any longer. Not this afternoon…not now. She studied the aged photograph touched the bent edges, and the memories of that day, that sunny winter day, came crashing down. Rachel placed the photograph back into its spot atop her vanity mirror then took hold of her hair brush and began her two hundred stroke brushing ritual. It felt as if her body never experienced that day, and her mind knew it yet she remembers it as if it were yesterday. The day she met Lucy the barely eighteen-year-old with cropped blonde hair and the perfect smile and nose.

Quinn…

The brush landed bristles down atop her carpeted floor. She leapt for the letter atop her chest-of-drawers. She skimmed the letter. It spoke of spoke of memories she had no memory of, of moments fresh yet aged over time in her mind. Tears flooded her cheeks all these years the memory that could not have been a memory was of Quinn. A knock came from her door. Rachel wiped vigorously at her cheeks pressing the salted liquid into her skin, and then another knock.

"Coming, I'm coming! Just give me a minute!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quinn Fabray wakes in her hospital bed, alone with only her thoughts.

Quinn

This morning is different. This morning after waking from yet another forced sleep Quinn actually feels rested. Not pulled into another unexplainable reality. Whatever unknown substance force-fed into her by the older and more eccentric doctor bypassed this round of her medicated stupor. Frannie, it must have been Frannie, maybe another resident, or doctor who halted the forced 'new-age' experiment.

No, no Quinn was sure she heard both older sister and Dr. Berry, Rachel's father, voices locked away deep in the haze of yesterday afternoon's memories.

…Yesterday Afternoon…

Quinn felt the familiar lifeless pull to her body as her body began to wake. Then the voices began to in the inner-most-part of her ear. The voices of her best friends and—and Rachel. Where ever she was Rachel was with her. Brittany, Santana, and Rachel were with her.

Statements, about her, blurred together. "Quinn's dreaming but not dreaming…her eyes their moving…my—my Dad said your eyes move when you dream…but Q's are moving faster like—like she's awake but a sleep at the same time." "Brittany…I…don't…" "B…I don't think—it's not that simple."

Her friends' conversation continued on set in the background, her thoughts of taking on a life of their own, Rachel. Tears escaped her lids as she opened her eyes slipping along sunken cheeks. She had to see the truth, her ears played tricks on her mind. Quinn refused to accept another split in her reality. "Rachel…," she spoke each letter of Rachel's name scrapped painfully along her throat.

A gasp and yelped followed the happy chirp of Brittany.

"Quinn!"

Cropped-blonde watched the teenagers. Her vision set behind a blurred glass-like haze, and her mind flung itself back. Body motionless, as the delicate hand crept its way along the bed sheets before grasping tight to Quinn's. Quinn was without a clue. The anticipated confused look of her friends etched into her mind. Her voice refused words; her throat burned an agonizing pain from the use of only one word. She continued to stare.

She felt it, the pull the strange liquid still at home in her veins. No, no not this time. She would fight, she had to fight. This was her world, her real world with her Rachel, and her Brittany and Santana. Her best friends still innocent, life not ripping away at that their souls. She could not go back there, where ever she would be taken next.

Erratic, high-pitched, untouchable beeps echo across the walls. Frannie now inches from her face forced back Rachel and blocked the brunette from the blonde's view.

No—no I need to see her. I need to see my, Rachel.

Quinn's desperate cries landed on def-ears. The older Fabray started physical assault with her pulse, fingers at wrist then along her throat. A quick turn and Frannie eyed the bag of fluids, the tube whipped left-to-right IV needle scraping beneath her skin, so much pain, and she felt so much pain. Frannie turned Quinn's face back and forth, pushed aside her eyelids shining a pen-sized light into her dilated pupils. Then the cold metal of her stethoscope, and was that her hand? Great, her sister to no fault of her own got to second-base faster than Finn, Puck, and Sam combined. Francis was a doctor, well resident, violating her younger sister never crossing her mind.

Okay…this' unpleasant…

Too much pain, the heart monitor erupted, and noise, so much noise. The nurses came, one ushered her friends from the room. As another held the door for, him, and he held tight to that needle prepared to take Quinn from reality once more.

Only this time, this time Quinn was not alone, she had Frannie would protect her, and her sister did just that. The older blonde barricaded Quinn and IV fluids from the doctor with the unkempt beard.

Her body continued convulsing up then down. Words blurred together as younger sister watched older physically and verbally protect her in a way she never thought possible. Phrases cleared their way to Quinn ears. "Don't you dare" "stay away from her,"

"I can take on a temporary guardianship until our mother gets here, she's my sister!"

Quinn's world went black.

…Quinn's Hospital Room…

Thoughts still fuzzed Quinn focused her attention of the wired remote attached her bed and whatever devise indicated to the nurses' station she was in need of help. She pressed the up arrow. The numbing in her lower began to lift along her spine as the hospital bed pushed her body into a forty-five degree angle.

She groaned. Her legs lay motionless as the thin sheet and old blanket maneuvered along her toes cool to the touch. If 'The Bride' in Kill Bill could move numbed big toe with the help of Jesus, what is to say he would not do the same for her? Wiggle your big toe.

Nothing.

Damn movies and their untruths.

Quinn pressed at the remote only her body did not raise. Though within the old hallway outside her shut door havoc started. Frantic feet clattered across linoleum tile.

"Wiggle your big toe."

"You know that was just a movie right?"

Quinn shook her shagged hair. "Semantics," she spoke attention still on her legs.

Francis Emilia Fabray sashayed into the room the door closing behind. "How—how are you feeling?"

"I—um…tired…confused. My body won't move, but I can feel my blankets."

"During the impa—your spine pinched and severely bruised the nerves in your lower back. And, you haven't used your legs in about two and a half probably closer to three weeks." Frannie sat at the edge of Quinn's bed shifting the 'useless legs' to the side for a better seat. "Mom's going to be beside herself. She just left like ten minutes ago."

Quinn laughed. She actually laughed. It felt like a life time since she was given a chance to laugh.

"Rachel…"

"Rachel…Rachel—Rachel, oh you mean Dr. Berry's daughter? I should let him and Dr. Lopez knows you're finally lucid." Frannie Fabray grinned from ear to ear and squeezed Quinn's forearm lovingly. "Go on, push the call button. I'm not leaving your side until Dr. Berry or Dr. Lopez is here."

Quinn bobbed her head. Finger pressed the red button into the white plastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few hours after waking Quinn learns Rachel, Santana, and Brittany have been stopping by every afternoon. Ignoring the protests from everyone Quinn decided it's time to become mobile.

The day progressed as any other day would, if you were stuck in a hospital let alone a bed. After a quick visit from both Dr. Berry, which of Rachel's fathers he was – Quinn hadn't a clue. She remembered him vaguely from shopping trips with her mother, but if told her life depended on knowing if he was Hiram or Leroy, the blonde would surely die.

Aside from that un-necessary…no—necessary tidbit of needed information Quinn thought highly of the man after their short ten-minute conversation.

Then there was Frannie. Who, just as she promised never left her side until Dr. Berry entered the room. She would return, and like before leave once Dr. Lopez entered the room to read her chart. And, like clockwork Frannie walked back into the room this time reclining in the uncomfortable pleather chair next to Quinn's propped hospital bed.

"You…," Frannie snarled. Quinn looked to her sister confusion etched across her face. "Dr. Berry…Dr. Lopez…no you can't be serious this man he's—he's…no you saw what it did to her…" Quinn heard her older sister beg. She never begs for me.

"Frannie…what's going on?"

"Yes, please enlighten us…what is going on?" The Fabray oozed from Francis' lips. If either of them were to have inherited anything from her father it would be Frannie, she could have never passed her exams without that ruthless drive for entitlement, perfection—distain. Quinn was her mother she strived to be Fabray, but she radiated Warner, her mother's maiden name.

"I looked through the alternatives Francis, and with the severity of Quinn's condition there's no other choice. If it were ten years ago we might have the okay for electro-shock, but this it's safter if properly monitored," explained Dr. Lopez.

"Which is exactly why," Dr. Berry continued as he stepped to the side allowing the doctor with the crazed beard access to the un-used needle injection of the IV attached to Quinn's hand. "Dr. Lopez and I have garnished a written consent to lower the dosage and only adminster it when in the presence of two of us or you."

Quinn eyed her sister, unsure of the next step to take.

"One of us has to be present at all times?" Both men nodded. "Fine…If I catch you doing anything out line, not only will my mother learn of this, but I will do the one thing I promised myself I would never do again. I will call my father and ask him to deal with this situation." From anyone else, from anyone not a Fabray the threat would be empty. No, this was a promise. A Fabray promise.

…

A high-pitched-child-like squeal pierces through Quinn's dulling thoughts. She can feel the effects of the drug as it begins its transcending journey within her body numbing her from the inside out. If this' the feeling Mac was talking about 'when you take vicodin jus' to take vicodin.' It's total crap, this sucks. She could hear the thud on the carpet as the soles of three pairs of shoes approached Quinn quickening in pace. The blonde now sat up right in a wheel chair facing the waiting room television.

"Q…Quinn…Q…Quinn—Q," asked a familiar voice in rapid session. Then finally eye-to-eye bright blue to hazel the blonde with the leaner face grinned from ear to ear. "You're awake? She's awake! Sannie—Rachel, Quinn's awake!" Death grip, oh how Quinn missed the death-grip-hug.

Quinn smirked for Brittany her head bobbing forward then back. She watched the Cheerio's focus span to its length her attention back to the two cautious teenagers.

"Britt…Babe. I love you Quinn adores you. Hell even the hobbit loves yah," Quinn lulled her head to the left the Latina's voice inches from her ear but you need to slow it down please you remember what happened last time she woke up…"

"What do you mean last time? I never..." A strong thick forehead connected with a wide pointed chin. "Voices…just voices…"

"Damn! What the fuck Quinn, what the hell is your problem," growled Santana rubbing her chin thankful the impact never made contact with her tongue. Pause… "Q? Finally, don't you ever do this again! You understand me? I'll go Lima Heights on your ass. Insane, wheel chair bound doesn't matter…I'll do it" Quinn saw the tears, there was no hiding. "You got me being civil to the midget. I've been driving with her here...God…Quinn…don't pull this crap again, you hear me."

"Trust me I don't plan on experiencing that ever agai…" the cropped blonde trailed thoughts pulled focus gone. Nothing mattered expect the touch she felt from her other visitor who bent o her level at her right. Rachel…

The tips barely brushed the blonde across the jaw before grazing the gaunt protruding cheekbone of her mentioned face. She would need to find Frannie tell her to tell their mother to bring a meal every visit…filled with bacon, lots and lots of bacon. That was for later, now, now Quinn felt feline as the finger tips continued to trace her face subconsciously pulling her face along with the touch. If she could purr, she would, and Rachel had no idea.

God I missed you. Don't ever turn out that way, please God never give up and turn out that way.

"What?"

"What?"

Both girls looked to the other, unable to move.

"Never turn out what way," asked Rachel.

Panic set in. She said that aloud? No, no, everything would be ruined. Brittany…Santana where were Brittany and Santana. No, no, not again it was the wedding all over again. "San…Britt…Where are Santana and Brittany?" Panic there was defiant panic.

The light caress converted to a soothing touch. "Brittany and Santana they went off to find Frannie." Quinn's gaze morphed to fear. "Quinn—Quinn…you zoned out. They went to find Frannie because the nurse couldn't help. Quinn—Quinn! Don't go not again, we just got you back…don't go." The soothing touch a desperate hold, and it was that desperate hold Quinn used to fight her reality, a reality she had no way of keeping hold to. "Never turn out what way," the brunette questioned her voice lowering to a whisper.

"I was gone," Quinn heard her speech dull. "I don't—don't understand…"

Rachel latched wheelchair bound girl before her within her arms. "You went some place...so Brittany and Santana went to find your sister. Oh Quinn what are they doing to you here…"

"It's not your Dad," Quinn stated. "My sister or Dr. Lopez they—they tried to stop it, but there's no other way." Rachel shook her head there had to be more to it. However, Quinn would bear the mental pain if…the confusing travels. To leave this hospital to be closer to Rachel, she would do anything. "It dulls out the noise…it hurts so much Rach…the noise…it hurts so much…"

She felt the petite diva grip tight to her shoulders. Nevertheless a numbing drug-induced pull took hold.

Quinn was gone, once again pulled from this reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think.


End file.
